


The Trials

by tristesses



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018)
Genre: F/F, Hurt No Comfort, Other, Oviposition, Pre-Canon, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/pseuds/tristesses
Summary: Qi'ra volunteers for a very important duty.





	The Trials

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiriamKenneath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/gifts).



> In the Wookiepedia article for Lady Proxima, I read this quote:
> 
> "The initial brief for ‘The Lair of the White Worms’ suggested that Lady Proxima was this matriarch of a low-level street gang, intolerant of daylight, might be literally worm-like, and potentially have **tentacles underneath the water**. We played with ideas that the tentacles might interconnect with her attendants, that maybe they were all a symbiotic organism..."
> 
> And I just kind of ran with it! Hope you like it!

Today was the day.

As she stepped out of the bright yellow light of Corell and into the darkness of the Lair, Qi'ra took a deep breath and set her shoulders. She didn't know if she would live to see the star set tonight; there was a good chance she would die after the Trial. Not all humans were able to carry an Attendant, with their frail bodies, and the ones who couldn't…well, Qi'ra had seen the aftermath of that. She knew what she was walking into, more or less, and she would do it with composure and grace. Being a Corellian street rat left her with little pride—it was hard to think highly of yourself when you were groveling in the dirt for the rinds from some businessman's sunfruit—but those two attributes she had in spades.

And besides, if she survived this, she would never root around in the garbage for food and clothing again.

The farther she went into the Lair, the muggier and danker it got. Moss grew on the hewn rocks, heedless of any sentient attempts to keep it away, and the drip of water was an ever-present background to the murmurs and tense whispers around her.

It wasn't always this quiet; Qi'ra had been in the Lair when it was raucous and lit-up with rainbow glow rods—Lady Proxima was one to let her Worms have a little fun, at least on the upper levels where the light and noise couldn't touch her. But today was a Trial day and no one was in a partying mood.

Qi'ra caught a thread of a conversation in passing.

 "—scrub up the blood again," some woman was muttering, "but I draw the short straw every kriffing time, Tralos must be cheating—"

"Least you don't have to get rid of the meat," a man commented. "Ever tried to move a dead—"

Then she was being guided deeper into the Lair, and their words were whipped away.

Qi'ra made a conscious effort to unclench her teeth. She'd been part of the cleanup crew for a Trial—her willingness to do the dirty work was part of what earned her this honor, such that it was—and she had a sudden stark mental image of her own body on the floor, her stomach torn out, someone else carelessly moving the lifeless meat she had become into the garbage to be compacted with the rest of the organic waste—

No. That wasn't going to be her. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was survive.

"Here," the woman guiding her, a Twi'lek with violet skin, said abruptly. She touched Qi'ra's arm—gently, compared to how Qi'ra was used to being handled, a preview of what it would be like when she was a White Worm for real—and pushed her towards a crack in the wall. It was barely human-sized; someone much bigger than Qi'ra wouldn't be able to fit.

"Here?" Qi'ra asked, not quite masking the surprise in her voice. The times she'd seen Trials, it had been in the Amphitheatre and she'd entered the normal way. But it must be different for initiates.

"There," the Twi'lek said, and then, as Qi'ra was sliding her hand inside the crack, she added, "Better hurry. Good luck."

Qi'ra was suddenly aware of the attention focused on her, which had been noted by the part of her brain that was always searching for danger, but was now brought to the forefront. Her stomach tightened as she gazed at the crack. It would be so easy for someone to trick her, to talk her into the crack then trap her inside, or to send her in the wrong direction and make her earn Lady Proxima's displeasure.

Qi'ra swallowed and squeezed inside. She was not brave, but she knew what was necessary. There was no going back.

Inside the crack, it was pitch-black, and she moved by feel, shuffling along with her fingers stretched before her and her face forward. The rock tore her clothes, her finest rags she'd spent so long stitching together, and scraped along her skin. It was dark, dark, and the crack was getting narrower. The tunnel was squeezing her along, forcing her to move forward. Could she even make it back the other way?

She bit down on a whimper and kept moving.

Then her fingers reached open air instead of rock, and she scrabbled at the edges of the crack, finally hauling herself out into a dimly-lit cavern that stank of still water and an alien smell she couldn't identify.

"Finally," a man said, emerging from the darkness and offering a hand to Qi'ra. She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then took it. "Took you long enough."

"If I'd known I'd have a welcoming party, I'd have moved faster," Qi'ra said, looking around the cavern. There was no one there, but she could see a slice of light, no brighter but slightly yellower than the orange glow of the cavern, across the room. A door?

"You're all sass," the man said with a roll of his eyes. "Beats the scared ones, I guess. Take off your clothes."

Qi'ra did. They were torn to pieces anyway. But she'd thought…she'd dressed up specifically because of the Trial. Maybe they would give her better clothes? She closed her eyes briefly, thinking of gowns, thinking of silk, which she'd never touched but could imagine.

Then she was naked, and the man was pointing.

"This way," he said. Qi'ra fought the urge to cover herself—and why would she? It was hardly the first time someone had seen her naked, and at least he didn't seem to care—and walked to the light.

It was a door, and peering through, Qi'ra saw the familiar Amphitheatre she'd expected. This cavern was tucked away, at an angle where no one could see inside; all she could see from here was a slice of the pool where Lady Proxima resided. She could hear well enough, though; the place sounded packed. It always was, for a Trial.

Where were some clothes? No one ever had to go to Trial naked.

There was a deep rumble, and then Qi'ra's view was cut off by Lady Proxima's bulk as she exploded from the still surface of the pool and into sight. The chatter of the crowd cut short. It was wise to listen when the Lair Mother spoke.

"Qi'ra," Lady Proxima said, her voice scaly and harsh. "Initiate, come out."

This wasn't right. This wasn't going according to plan. Lady Proxima usually gave a speech, and then the Attendant was inserted; unpleasant but doable. What was going to happen?

Qi'ra bit her lip and thought, _Whatever happens, happens, and I'll deal with it when it does,_ and obeyed.

She could see every face in the Amphitheatre as she walked out onto the small platform in the center of the pool, water sloshing around her ankles, and that meant she could see all the expressions when people registered her nakedness: shock, amusement, desire. One man—a boy, really—slouched in the back straightened up, and when Qi'ra glanced at him, he didn't look away. He wasn't checking her out, though; he met her eyes as though he knew her, and gave her a little nod as if to say, _it's okay_.

Or maybe she was delusional.

Lady Proxima turned to her.

"Qi'ra," she said warmly—as warmly as she could, at least. "My newest Initiate. You are something very special, do you know that?"

There was an elongated silence. This wasn't a rhetorical question, apparently. Qi'ra cleared her throat and answered, "No, my lady."

"You will be the first to try my new method of implanting Attendants inside my Initiates." Lady Proxima turned to the crowd. "In the past, the stomach acids of the sentients I chose to initiate would traumatize the Attendants, poor things, and the implantation would be unsuccessful." She turned back to Qi'ra, who was going cold all over.

"But for mammals like you, Qi'ra," she continued, "I have a new idea."

Qi'ra did not shut her eyes. She did not look away. You didn't show weakness if you wanted to survive. But she knew where this was going; there were several major differences between annelids like Lady Proxima and mammals like Qi'ra, but it didn't take a massive leap of intuition to figure out which one was important.

At least Proxima wasn't humanoid, and wasn't capable of feeling lust for humans. Probably. It would be quick, and businesslike, and then Qi'ra would be fine, she'd be safe with the White Worms, and she—

One of Proxima's tentacles slithered out of the water and wrapped around Qi'ra's ankle, pulling her flat on her back. She caught herself with her elbows, jarring herself badly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boy in the back wince.

Then things began to happen very fast. Tentacles embraced her, lifting her out of the water, holding her spread-eagle in the air. Proxima's body swayed behind Qi'ra as her tentacles crawled over Qi'ra's arms and legs, around her waist, leaving trails of slime in their path. No part of her body was left untouched; they slipped over her toes, ran over her lips and nipples, leaving Qi'ra shuddering helplessly. Then they wrapped around Qi'ra's knees and wrenched her legs open, displaying her fully to the audience.

_Don't struggle_ , Qi'ra told herself, _you'll just make it worse._

"What better way to facilitate an implantation than with a species capable of carrying live young?" Proxima asked, and then the tentacles slid around Qi'ra's buttocks and—

Qi'ra gasped, and the sound carried; the Amphitheatre was nearly silent. She could feel their attention, their horror, their desire, and as Proxima's tentacles slid across her open cunt, jolting her where she was most sensitive, and pressed inside her, her back arched without her consent, her body saying _yes, this_.

The tentacles filled her up until it almost hurt, but they were so slick and spongy it felt only like pressure, the tentacles rolling and twisting inside her, and this was a sensation unlike anything she'd experienced before, for all the rutting around with humans and aliens alike she'd done before—the tentacles bulged and squirmed and touched a place inside her that made her mouth fill with saliva and her body quiver. Her thighs tensed and trembled in the tight grip of the tentacles, and Proxima said, "Look how receptive the mammal becomes!"

Qi'ra's head fell back and she squeezed her eyes closed. Seven hells take her composure; her body was betraying her and she couldn't do a kriffing thing about it.

Later, she would wonder just how the egg got inside her, physically; surely there should have been pain, or at least something besides the pressure and boiling pleasure inside her. But there was no pain, just a sudden fullness as something heavy filled up a place that had until now been untouched—and then the tentacles were swelling, they weren't coming out, and Qi'ra bit her lip to stop from crying out as her body spasmed over and over, one leg kicking.

"See how kindly I treat my Initiates?" Proxima said to the audience, smugly. Qi'ra went limp in the tentacles, and they gently lowered her to the platform. Gentle, now, because she was host to an Attendant. "Qi'ra, bow before your Lady."

Qi'ra bent at the waist, wincing at the new fullness inside her. Something inside her was howling but the surface of her mind remained serene; this was better than she had expected, really, no blood or pain, and even if she had been so vulnerable in front of people who would never let her forget it—even if Proxima had made her—made her like it—

She was fine.

When she straightened, Proxima started chattering, the insectoid noise she made instead of smiling.

"Welcome to the White Worms, Qi'ra," she said. "Now obey me and make me proud."


End file.
